fiendsreachfandomcom-20200213-history
Phink Jordan
History Phink grew up with a tribe of ''super ''stereotypical goblins. They ate every thing and every one they got their hands on. Phink grew up accustomed to famine and desperation; leading her to eat her younger brother. Under a typical household, that would have been rather traumatic. In Phink's tribe, that was as morally dubious as wetting the bed; adults won't do it, but it is just part of growing up. The adults still did what they could to ensure everyone was well fed, as when they were old, they would need help hunting and pillaging. Her coming of age involved being involved in those campagins. Like many goblins, she found the bow to be a safe way to engage and safely retreat. She hunted and foraged for all sorts of things. On special occasions, she would travel to the gnome city many miles away and load up her dog with all it could carry. Her siblings appreciated this because 1) gnome meat is incredibly tasty and 2) she was literally the most annoying goblin in the tribe. "Seriously Phink. Nobody cares that you ate a gnome face-first. LITERALLY NOBODY." - The entire tribe Mercy On the saddest day of her life, Phink was alone. She left early in the morning to find scavenge for some berries; Mama was making a meat pie. She managed to find a bush of them based on the usual vague description of, "They're round, orange, and taste like rock". She returned a few hours later to see the entire tribe brutally slain. Her mothers head on a pike, she couldn't help but cry out in grief as the one constant in her life had been taken from her. It was then that she heard a clinking of armor shuffling from around the corner, the slushing of blood draining in footsteps. She dashed under some hay around the corner, neatly out of sight. "Now, where did you go... ?" The voice was icy as it crept around the encampment. "Ah, yes, you're still around. Naughty little thing, aren't you?" Her voice grew closer and closer, finally stopping in front of the hay that Phink was hidden in. "Please don't make me go through all of this hay. I don't know what filth it came from." Thinking she was bluffing, Phink remained motionless until she heard the unsheathing of a sword. She cried out, "Please. No hurt. Please no." There was a horrible pause. The kind of pause that Phink felt when debating how to cook up a tasty gnome. Could this person be wanting to eat her? Is that what she had been doing to those gnomes; putting so many through this terror? She could hear muttering. A debate of what to season her with? "Alright, fine. Fine. FINE. I said fine. That's faith, right?" Phink felt the hay shift above her as a plated hand reached down and grabbed her by the nape of her neck. She initially struggled to break free, but the grip was stone. "What's your name." She barked it, less as a question and more of a reluctant order for information. Phink's eyes darted to the ground. She never wanted to know the names of all the people she had eaten. Now she realizes, being in the same position, that they all had names. And probably mothers. And probably daughters. They were people in the same way she was. "NAME!" She roared this time, clearly impatient. "Sorry! My name is Phink. Please don't eat me alive. I'll do anything if you kill me first!" "By the gods. I'm not going to eat you, ''Phink. ''It's your lucky day, as Freya has decided you shall live." "Who is Freya? Are they going to eat me?" "Freya says that at this moment, you have understood the significance of life, death, and war. She gives you this opportunity to be a warrior of the harvest." The cleric lowered Phink to the ground, letting her feet rest. The only thing Phink knew about harvests were that there was a lot of food around. Her eyes were sealed shut, ready to die. Phink felt a rough pressure on her chest with a grazing of fur. She opened her eyes to see nothing. Redemption Since that day, Clarissa has trained Phink to think morally. However, for obvious reasons, a lifetime of being a monster is a hard thing to untangle. Had Clarissa chosen, it would have just been one more dead goblin. She doesn't understand why Freya put her through this trial, but persists. One day, she wakes up early in the morning to Phink hastily dressing. "What's the deal, Phink? You've never woken before me." "There's a wolf. It looks hurt. It's limping. I'm going to help it." Clarissa's eyes swelled with pride. "That's the Good Thing, right? Help it?" "Go on then. Don't get bitten." Phink hopped on her horse and bolted after the wolf. It was surprisingly fast for an animal with a bum leg. Still, she was catching up. She could hear the sea not far away; it didn't make sense for a wolf to be in this area; they like rivers and creeks. Still, she chased and chased, far out of line of sight. Clarissa has been searching for Phink since then.